The Bird's Nest
by Toystory242
Summary: When Drew moves yet again, a fellow classmate tells her that she's a mutant-a human being with special powers, and that she has to come with him to a school for mutants which the students call "The Bird's Nest," considering that the founder's name is Robin. Here she meets many other mutants, some of whom are some of the most powerful there.


Hi. Nice to meet you. I know; that's a really lame way to start a story. But how else am I supposed to start it? I can't just jump into the action right? Then whoever is reading this would just be confused and would want to throw the book at the wall. Yeah, I really don't want that to happen, so I'm going to give you an introduction.

Oh—and to anyone who likes jumping into the action on the first page, sorry—it's not gonna happen. I'd like to explain things first. But there is action in this book, so you really don't have to worry about that.

So, on to introducing myself. I'm Drew Santnell. Regular, 17-year-old, classic black-haired blue-eyed teenager. Ha! I fooled you, right? Yeah, turns out, I'm a little less than normal. In this story, you're gonna figure out how not normal I am, as well as how not normal my friends are. I'm going to tell you about the little adventure we went on together, and how I got to know them all.

Chapter 1:

My family moved around a lot. (And still does, as a matter of fact.) My dad has a job that takes him everywhere, so we went everywhere with him. It was just my mother, my dad, and I, so it wasn't like my parents were dragging seven screaming children around with them.

I really didn't mind the moving. I'm shy anyway, so I never really got attached to anyone before we headed off again. I went to a school, was known as the new girl for three months, the shy girl for three more months, then, by that time, we were moving again. Did I make any friends? I had people I talked to; I wasn't totally socially awkward. But, like I said, it wasn't like I had any best friends that I would be upset to leave behind when I moved.

I was always the quiet one who did all of her work and whatever was asked of her. Sometimes I wonder if I should have been more open, but I decided I made the right choice. Because if I _did _make any connections, my heart would just break when we moved again.

So, just to clarify—I did not have any friends or boyfriends. Now you think I was a lonely bum, right? Nah, I was alright. My mom was my best friend. And yeah—I know what you're thinking now too. You were friends with your _freaking _ mom!? That's creepy! She's your _mom_! But who else could I talk to? The floorboards? My mother talked to me about everything, and I truly loved her and respected her. See—I didn't have any parties to go to that she could restrict me from or boyfriends that she could say I couldn't date anymore, so I had no reason to hate her. Even if I had all of those things and she did all of those things, I would still love her. Sure, I'd be mad, but you can never hate your mother. She carried you in her belly for nine months and nursed you. I mean, COME ON! That's hard work.

Sorry—this is turning into a lecture. But, anyway, my father was also never home, so I couldn't talk to him. My mother was my available source, so I talked to her and she talked to me.

So, since we traveled so much, I got into the habit of taking pictures of our car rides and the school I was going to go to and our house, and soon I was going crazy with it. I really, really enjoyed it. I loved taking pictures so much, my mother and father got me a really, really nice camera as a birthday-Christmas present. (And yes, we celebrate Christmas. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, but that's the holiday I celebrate.)

I loved my camera. It was beautiful and perfect. I treated that thing like gold. I polished the lense and cleaned it once a week and—yeah, that thing was like my baby.

The last school I went to before The Bird's Nest was called Lincoln High. Yeah, creative, right? We didn't live too far away, and I really didn't feel like answering questions about myself on a bus full of people, so I walked. I had my camera around my neck, and I was snapping pictures of anything that caught my eye.

I reached the school and immediately shot a picture. It was impressive. It was _huge_. Kids pouring in through the metal double doors (which had, like, eighty stairs leading up to it), talking and laughing, backpacks on their backs (we would get our laptops the next week). The brick walls went in and out and around, windows scattered all over their surface. I marveled at it. I had never been to a school so big in my entire life, and I had been to my fair share of schools. I could think of ten at the top of my head. Sad, right?

Luckily, my family had moved to this location at the end of the summer, so I was actually at this school for the first day and didn't have to scrounge and rack my brain to catch up to whatever that school in that specific area was learning. So there I was, starting my junior year. At the time, I was only sixteen.

I climbed up the steps, shoved my way through the door, and made a bee-line for the office, cutting through the mob of students, muttering, "Excuse me" over and over again as I tried to get through.

I managed to get to the office and pull open the door, going in and standing at the counter on the other side of the room. A woman was behind it, typing on a computer.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over the counter.

The woman looked up, straightening and clearing her throat. "Yes?"

Now, you might think I was in there because I needed to get my schedule or something, but, since we had gotten to our new home during the summer, we were able to register in advance, and I had already received my schedule in the mail. I was there for an entirely different reason.

"I was just wondering: am I allowed to take pictures of and in the school with my camera?"

I secretary eyed the camera around my neck.

I always got varied answers for this request. Sometimes they would say sure and wave me off, and sometimes they would give me the stink eye and shake their heads.

"You can, as long as you only do it when class is not going on and you don't disturb anyone with it. And if someone asks you not to take their picture, don't."

I nodded, smiling. "Of course. Thanks, ma'am." I shuffled out of the office, fishing my crumbled schedule out of my pocket, eyeing the huge school.

Students were still walking around; they were allowed to until the warning bell at 8:45. I walked to the side of the hall, glancing around, trying to find my first class.

The warning bell rung, and the students scattered, rushing off to their classes.

"Hey. Where are you going?" someone came up to me, tapping me on the arm. Now, let me say, this person does not appear later in my story. He is not one of my friends that wrote in the black pages, nor is he even a side character in my story. He was just being nice, and I remember his generosity.

"English with Mrs. Dobrinski. Room 1102. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah. Just follow me." He led me down the hall and turned the corner, pointing to a nearby classroom. "Right there. Have fun." He smiled at me and turned around, walking off in another direction. I snapped a picture of him. I thought it looked cool; there were no other students left in the hallway, just him, walking slowly off.

I hurried into the classroom, facing a sea of students already sitting in their seats, talking to each other. Mrs. Dobrinski, a tall woman with straight brown hair down to her shoulders, sat in the corner of the room, typing at her computer.

Now, this is where one of my black page buddies comes in. He was sitting at the very front of the room, immersed in a book. His name is Travis Grant. He is not the writer of the first black pages or the second black pages, he is the writer of the fourth and final set of black pages. So this is your last chance; if you want to know a little something about Travis before I tell you my side, go ahead and read his set. If you don't, just continue along for my own description of Travis.

Travis is tall with curly brown hair and big, black, square glasses that take up a lot of his face. He has the fricken' cutest, knock-out, whitest smile I've ever seen. Like he smiles and BANG—blindness. Not kidding. He always has a book in his hands, walking, sitting, eating, everything (except maybe when he's training). He walks with determination in his stride, book in one hand, other hand in his pocket, somehow avoiding anyone else that's walking the opposite direction. Whenever I walk with him, he pockets his book and smiles at me, his green eyes lighting up.

Yes—if you were wondering, Travis is my boyfriend. Now, remember, not then, when I had just walked in the door.

Most of the seats were taken. There was only one desk left; the one at the very front, right by where the teacher was sitting. No, I was not next to Travis. He was sitting at the other end of the row of seats.

I sat down, dropping my backpack to the floor. The bell rung and the students immediately went quiet. Mrs. Dobrinski sat at her desk for a few more moments, then got to her feet. She was wearing a pretty floral dress and pink high-heels. She clacked to the center of the classroom, smiling at us. "Hi! I'm Mrs. Dobrinski, your English teacher. It's very, very nice to meet you all. Let's go around and say each of our names, alright?"

I'll skip most of the class, but it was normal first day stuff. Regulations, rules, and lots of smiling from Mrs. Dobrinski. She told us lots of stories, which were hilarious and kept me from dozing off. I remember thinking that I knew I would love her and her class.

But at the end of class, she assigned us a project.

"I know it's only the first day of school, but I want to get a jump on things. You are going to partner up with someone I've assigned you too, and, together, figure out how to mix your summer experiences into one paper."

The class groaned.

"I know, I know, but I hope it will be fun for you all. It's not due for several weeks, and you also get to know someone that you've, hopefully, never been in class with before." Mrs. Dobrinski shuffled with some papers and focused on one. "Alright…"

She started calling out the names of partners. Yeah—you guys are smart. Who did I get with? Yes, it's very obvious. I got partnered up with Travis. It's a big deal though. If I hadn't gotten partnered up with Travis, I would never had gone to The Bird's Nest and met my three other besties. Amazing what one simple random choosing of a partner can do, huh?

But yes, when Mrs. Dobrinski read, "Drew Santnell and Travis Grant" I straightened up, trying to figure out who the heck that was. Travis shut his book and straightened up too. I picked that up, and, when the bell rung, went over to him.

"Hey, are you Travis?"

He already had his book in his hand. "Yes ma'am! You're Drew?"

I nodded. He pocketed his book, holding his hand out. "Nice to meet you." I took his hand, nodding. "You too."

"So…" Travis rocked back and forth on his heels. "I guess we're partners, huh? When do you wanna start?"

"Well, I like getting things done as soon as I can…"

Travis nodded, his glasses tapping his nose every time he moved his head up and down. "Me too. You want to meet today? Tomorrow? Next Thursday…?"

I scratched my head. "How about you give me your phone number, and I'll call you sometime?"

Travis nodded again. "Yup. Sure." He wrote his number on my hand with a pen, holding the cap in-between his teeth. I found it incredibly cute. And yeah, I'm going to be saying things like this a lot. Get used to it.

He gave me his number and gave me a small no-teeth-showing smile and walked down the hall, pulling out his book and stuffing his other hand in his pocket, strutting down the hallway like his next class was the most important place in the world to go. I snapped a picture.

I got Travis to come over to my house on Saturday that weekend, since I wanted to get a head start on our project. I opened the door when he knocked, and I was happy that he had his backpack on his back and no book in his hand. I smiled at him and invited him in, yelling to my mom that my partner was here and that we'd be in my room.

"Wait! Let me at least shake his hand first." My mother walked quickly into view, grinning at Travis and taking his hand. "Nice to meet you. You're Travis, right?"

Travis nodded, his glasses clicking against his nose. "Yes, ma'am."

She waved to the stairs across the entry hall. "You two have fun. And actually _work _on your project, please. No procrastinating."

I led Travis to the stairs, taking them two at a time. I led him into my room, sitting, cross-legged, on my carpeted floor, grabbing my backpack where it lay by my bed.

Travis glanced at all the boxes leaned against my wall. Yes—I had still not unpacked some of my stuff. That was my least favorite part about moving. And I had to do it a lot.

"You just move in?"

I nodded. "Yup. And I'll probably be moving out again in six months." My voice was bitter, and I dug through my backpack as I said it, avoiding his eyes.

"That's too bad. You can never get attached to anyone, huh?"

I shrugged. "I've got my mom. My dad when he comes home for dinner."

"Is that why you move around a lot?" Travis slipped his backpack off, sitting down as well.

"Hmm?" I looked up. "Oh, my dad's job? Yes, that's why we move around so much." I pointed to my camera, which was on my bed. "And is also why I take pictures so much."

"Because you move around?"

"Yeah. I've been everywhere, seen everything. I like taking pictures of it all. When I'm older, I'm gonna go all over the world and take pictures, selling my photos."

Travis unzipped his backpack, glancing at the camera. "Can I look at some of the pictures?"

"Uhh…" I scratched my cheek. I had only ever shown my parents those photos. No one else had really asked. Before, whenever someone came over to my house, we had never got on the topic of my photo taking; just worked on the project we had been assigned. I shrugged, curving my lip in a frown. "Sure. Go ahead. Let me just turn it on." I grabbed it, clicking the power button. "Just hit the little arrow button to go through them." I handed it over, searching through my backpack for our project directions and scoring sheet, as well as opening up my computer.

There was only the soft clicking as Travis went through the pictures, and I opened my laptop and logged in.

"Hey!" Travis said suddenly, and I looked up with a start. "That's me." He turned the camera so it was facing me. On the screen, it had a picture of him walking down the hall, surrounded by other students, one hand in pocket, the other holding a book. I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Uh…I just…" I cleared my throat. "I try to take pictures of everything I see that interests me and stays with me. I thought it was cool that you were reading a book going down the hallway, walking fast but never running into anyone. Like you were in another world, but still in this one too. Like…you were intent on getting some place, but calm and cool and not in a rush at the same time." The whole speal came out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I sat there awkwardly, puffing out my cheeks. Travis stared at me for a second, and I thought he might give me my camera and make an excuse to leave, but he smiled, turning the camera back around.

"That's really cool, about the pictures. And, uh, thanks…about my walk." He gave a small chuckle. I smiled hesitantly back, silently thanking whoever was watching over me that I hadn't gotten an obnoxious asshole as my partner. "Mind if I look through a few more?"

I shook my head, _no, I don't mind_, opening up a word document on my computer.

After another minute, Travis handed back my camera. "You're really good. Can I look through some more another time?"

I smiled. "Sure."

"Sorry; I'm procrastinating, like your mom told me not too. We should start our project."

I looked at him for a moment and made a spit second decision. "Wait." I got up, grabbing my tripod and setting it up by the door, screwing my camera on top. "Look at the camera, but pretend you're working, okay?" I set up the ten second timer, catapulting to the floor and bringing my computer closer to Travis, so it would look like we had been looking at it in the picture.

He followed my directions and began talking to me, looking at the camera. I glanced up just as the camera beeped for one last time and flashed, then I got to my feet, looking at the picture.

My face widened in a grin. We were both seated on the floor around the computer, Travis's mouth slightly open, looking at the camera. I was hunched over the computer, my face expressionless but my eyes bright, looking at the camera too. There was no glare on Travis's glasses, and it really looked like we were surprised that the camera was there, like someone had just snapped it while we were working. "Yay!" I clapped my hands together like a little 5-year-old happy that Dora was on. "It turned out really good!"

Travis got up and came over. "Let me see." He looked at it and put his hands on his hips. "Promise to submit that to the yearbook, okay? That or another one of your pictures. Drew, that's _really _good! And you did that in, what? Fifteen seconds?"

"But I won't even get to see the yearbook," I muttered. I thought Travis hadn't heard me, but he stopped smiling, turning to me.

"I'll send you it."

"Are you sure?" I moaned, still uncomfortable with the idea. "You and my parents are the only ones who have ever seen my pictures before."

"Really? I'm the first beside your family?"

"Well, we move around so much, and even when I have partners for projects and they come over, they never ask to see my pictures, even though I'm sure they see it around my neck at school and sitting somewhere within my arms reach here. I…just…never figured people were interested."

"Well, I don't know if a really nerdy dude counts, but _I _like your pictures."

I smiled at him. "Thanks."

Travis turned slightly, taking his glasses off and rubbing the lenses. I started unscrewing the camera, biting my lip. I saw, from the corner of my eye, Travis glance at me for a second.

"Careful, you're gonna hit your head."

"What?" I started to straighten up, and hit my head on the little tray that held my camera. "Gah!" I rubbed my hurt head, glaring up at Travis. He smacked his glasses back on his face, like he absolutely needed to get them on or the world would end.

"How'd you know I was going to hit my head?"

He gave me a little half smile and shrugged, his eyes really wide. "Lucky guess."

I cleared my throat, turning and taking down my tripod. It might have just been a lucky guess; he could have seen that I was in a precarious position and pointed it out to warn me. But the way he reacted to me asking him made me kind-of confused and suspicious.

He gave me a nervous chuckle. I smiled back, sitting down on the floor. We spent the rest of the afternoon working on our project, but there was an uneasy mood around us while we did it.

_**Alright guys, that is my first fanfic upload on here ever. I'm really just testing things out, because I've putted around this website before and thought it would be cool to upload my own stuff. Tell me if you'd like me to continue, because, really, it's up to you!**_


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